


The Ones That Matter

by BetterOptions



Series: In the End [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl is observant, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV Daryl Dixon, Prison, Protective Daryl Dixon, Rick is unstable, Romance, Season 2 deleteted scene reference, So is Rick, first time saying I love you, promises made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetterOptions/pseuds/BetterOptions
Summary: There's a list of words Daryl never in his life considered saying to someone; he made it through life only saying what he needs to and nothing more, until one day he finds an occasion where he wants nothing more that to spill everything weighing on his heart and mind.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Series: In the End [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046653
Kudos: 34





	The Ones That Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rcqstock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcqstock/gifts).



> Another small fic building up to Show Me.

Rick’s presence has always been equal parts scary, exciting, and pleasurable all at once. Daryl remembers their budding interactions as clear as some of the lakes he grew up hunting around. The ringlets in Rick’s hair reminding Daryl of the ripples in the water; simple and delicate in appearance, hiding considerable dangers just below the surface

Rick has always been an exceptional man in Daryl’s eyes, for one reason or another. That was one thing Daryl never had any doubts about.

“Has anyone ever told you how smart you are?” Rick begins conversationally, as though he didn’t make Daryl’s heart pump quickly and irregularly, one of many exceptions concerning Rick and Daryl both. He became more than keen to it when the other man first started hunting with him.

“The hell did tha’ come from?” Daryl retorts, voice on the verge of hostile, stopping to stare Rick down, to get a read on him. Contrary to popular belief, Daryl doesn’t care for not knowing everything there is to know.

Daryl is almost shocked when the small trace of humor he detects in Rick’s tone doesn’t bring him more confusing anger. “Just pointin’ out somethin’ I noticed about you. I can be _observant_ too when I feel like it.” he says stepping over a large twig, lightening Daryl’s mood considerably.

“You tryin’ to get in my pants or somethin’?” Daryl says almost equally amused now, flush spreading around his neck and chest because Rick still remembered something so seemingly insignificant. It never actually occurred to him whether he thought Rick assumed he was dumb like most of the others did at first.

“Never been the smooth-talkin’ type, but I’m glad you stuck around regardless. Thought for a minute you’d want to be one of the first to leave.” All in the span of about a minute, Daryl goes from defensive anger, to amusement, to pure confusion, and like usual all his emotions are shaped by the Southern man with the quiet voice next to him.

“Couldn’t leave. Didn’t really want to.” He confesses, with the frightening and inviting feeling of being under Rick’s mental magnifying-glass; he handles it the way he would anything else, with unrepentant honesty and simplicity, something he knows Rick would appreciate.

“But you thought about it, and you’re still here. I’m grateful. This group needs you. I need you. Just figured you ought to know that outright.”

“Don’t worry, about it, man.” Daryl says to the ground, the familiar image of pale greens and browns mixed and lightly frosted over with snow calms his nerves. Daryl can feel Rick's eyes linger on the back of his head, something in the man’s gaze pleading and commanding him at once to understand the depths of his words.

“Whenever you need something, consider it done. I’ll see to it.” Something tumbles in Daryl’s chest.

“Alrigh’, he swallows, voice suddenly small, an irrational fear of disrupting something integral. “I’d do the same.” Daryl’s entire body goes numb as he watches the man’s pupils consume his eyes.

“I know.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you’re alright.” Rick whispers low in his ear, tones wrapping around Daryl’s lungs, squeezing until he’s unable to speak, until he’s unable to breathe properly, until Rick either looks away or commands him to talk regardless.

“Did you run in to any trouble?” Rick says softly, his hand resting on Daryl’s shoulder, thumb absentmindedly stroking his neck. His unwavering gaze urges Daryl to respond with a voice he doesn’t yet have. He shakes his head, lips pressed together, hoping he doesn’t seem too out of sorts to Rick’s sharp eyes.

Rick maintains eye-contact, waiting for a real answer.

“Nah, didn’t have no problems.” He finally works through the fleshy wall of his throat to say.

He unhooks his kills, holds them up for Rick’s inspection to have something to do with his slightly trembling hands. Two rabbits and two squirrels. The eyes on Daryl don’t waver in their intensity, yet the stare he receives is nothing short of extraordinary.

“Thank you. You did amazing, Daryl. I’ll be with you out there, next time.”

Rick could have been the type to hate Lori to the bottom of his guts, and Daryl knows he isn’t, but Rick still would never leave her side, the mother of his child, alone during a strange bout of illness. Muddled history be-damned. Another reason Daryl admires him, another exception concerning the man enthralling his thoughts. Even if Rick doesn’t tell her “I love you” anymore, he still loves what she represents for Carl and Judith and deep down himself to a degree.

“I love you” was a phrase that didn’t mean much to Daryl growing up. He’d never heard it from anyone other than his Ma on the rare occasion that she wasn’t shit-blitzed out of her mind. Never thought much of the phrase other than them being almost worthless or only to be used by a rare person who understood the sentiment behind them. In other words, he didn’t factor it as something worth caring about. He wouldn’t be hearing them from anyone anytime soon. The times Daryl bothered to speak he only said what he needed to and nothing more. Daryl knows what category Rick falls into with Lori, and he’s also starting to figure out which category he falls into with Rick. That doesn’t mean Daryl needs to actually tell him any of this, there’s more important things to focus on saying.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You need to go in and talk to Rick,” Hershel tells him, sitting on a dusty desk, crutches leaning against the wall next to him. “You’re the only other person he’ll listen to.”

The vet fixes Daryl with a knowing stare. “You know him better than anyone now and he needs you. I tried. Glenn tried. It’s your turn. I know once upon a time you lost people, you lost family, before and after the turn.” The white-haired man’s expression is equal parts sympathetic and encouraging. “You two are close for a reason.”

Daryl nods, starting to make his way to the office where Rick is facing his demons. Dark corridor after dark corridor, it would scare Daryl if he were pussy enough for that to be the case. Fuck only knows who and what Rick found during his initial trips down them. That’s what gives Daryl his first pangs of fear. For the first time Daryl wonders how out of his right mind the man was, and how much of a danger he was to himself if he couldn’t recognize threats on his own. His eyes pick up on darkened blood trails, the only thing that calms Daryl’s mangled nerves; if something happened to Rick in the hours he’s been gone, in the time Daryl wasn’t at his hip, the remains would be fresh in hue and scent. If that were the case, Daryl and every God-forsaken thing in the prison would be the ones needing help.

When the path becomes more sporadic, less careful, non-sensical and frenzied, and he can’t easily distinguish Rick’s location, he becomes slightly enveloped in the insanity he witnesses. Nothing’s allowed to take Rick, Daryl will _die_ first. Prayers Daryl didn’t even realize he was thinking were answered when the carnage becomes more methodical and predictable, a divine gift that Rick was temporarily back to senses. Daryl only hopes it will last, at least until Daryl can locate him and keep him safe.

A thump startles him out of his anxiety induced trance and Daryl hauls ass to the source, fuck keeping quiet. An image appears and remains chained up in his head: Rick screaming, bloody, bitten, torn apart. _Daryl_ _will die_ before he lets that happen. He makes it to the doorway, crossbow raised, poised to kill whatever and whomever was dumb enough to threaten Rick, all logic and reasoning lost. The only image Daryl is greeted with is Rick sitting in a dingy-ass chair, a heavy, equally dusty book next to it. The source of Daryl’s panic.

“We got to get out here, man. Don’ even know if the whole area is safe yet.” Daryl huffs out of breath. No response. Tough shit. Rick is either coming with him or Daryl will keep his ass with him until he can.

“What're you doin'?” Daryl tries again slowly approaching the sitting man staring off at unseen things by a sky-gray wall, figures it’s the easiest thing to start with, whether it’s the right thing to say or not.

Rick stays silent for a few moments, and if he didn’t know the man any better, he’d think he would be on the verge of telling him to leave or outright making him, like Glenn described.

“Did Hershel send you?” The man inquires quietly instead.

“Woulda come, regardless.” Daryl argues just as quiet.

Rick leans forward in the old wooden chair, stroking the lower half of his face, “You didn’ need to do that,” Rick mutters, “I just needed-need…time.”

“Can’t keep doing this to yourself; ain’t good for you,” Daryl starts, seeing Rick shake his head ready to argue, but Daryl beats him to it. “Was seein’ Merle for the longest. Son of a bitch wouldn’t leave me alone, tellin’ me shit I thought I already knew. Just rubbin’ everything in. Knew I was going crazy. Thought it helped in the long run. Didn’. Was just guilty. Mind didn’ want to quit. You ain’t alone; ain’t got to deal with everything on your own no more.” He says moving closer to the hurting man.

Rick tilts his head, sending Daryl a look, that look, that makes his insides wring with pleasure, eyes stunningly blue and open like the morning skies he’d used to wake up staring at as a boy; it gives him that same feeling of openness and safety, even if it could be temporary.

“You said if I ever wanted something, to consider it done. This is it.” Daryl reminds him.

Rick doesn’t even blink, making the flesh on Daryl's exposed arms mimic little hills.

“Why? Why bring that up now?” The leader asks as though it’s a simple question, and not one that would have Daryl spilling into true being on his knees before him to show why.

“’Cause I love you. Care what happens to you.” Daryl slips out, far easier than he thought it would be, with less courage than he thought it would take. Daryl stops breathing. What he said wasn’t a mistake. He meant it with every iota and cell in his body. He knew what he was saying just as much as Rick is smart enough to connect the dots.

Rick gets up slowly, sauntering the short distance to where Daryl is standing, graceful as a bird gliding through water, as though giving Daryl time to make a decision. Daryl swallows as the man’s face comes a couple inches from his own, blood feeling like its racing in two different directions at once, trembling slightly as the man holds eye contact before glancing at his lips.

“You told me if I wanted anything to consider it done.” For a moment Daryl thinks that he’ll be asked to leave, that Rick will shove him back out the way he came, snarl like an unchained, wild animal until he thinks Daryl will limp away with his tail between his legs. Daryl would honor the man’s wishes, but he wouldn’t leave like some neutered bitch trying to cradle what was left of their dignity, he’s the kind of bitch that would stand guard outside the door and scratch to ask his owner when it’s alright to come in. There’s a difference.

“I want you to stay with me. In here. Can’ go back out there now. I just…” Rick glances away for a second then back to Daryl’s face, to his lips. Daryl braces himself as the man’s gaze lingers. “I need you,” Rick whispers, encouraged by Daryl’s choice to remain this close. Daryl nods wordlessly, and Rick apparently isn’t bothered by it this time around.

The silent plea Daryl rarely sees in his leader’s eyes prepares him to take on the world for Rick whenever and wherever the time comes. He leans in closer, displaying his loyalty, his want to crawl inside the man and battle all the torment and grief and never leave in case it tries to come back. Rick swallows and holds his gaze unblinking, reverent, at what Daryl knows isn’t hidden in his expression. The depths of emotion he has for this man running far deeper and clearer than any lake or ocean could pretend to be.

The former deputy closes the last couple of inches left in the gap, the pressure on Daryl’s lips is the lightest touch he’s never known, makes him crave something just as gentle and much harder at once. The molasses-slow movement of the man’s lips move as though trying to drink something thick from the pit of Daryl’s soul, shedding light on the things hidden deep inside of him. Rick’s lips, just like many aspects of him are surprisingly tender.

Rick’s hands find Daryl’s lower back and shoulder blades, and he can’t resist the feeling of being cradled, enveloped in a tender cocoon of Rick’s making, formed from flesh, blood, sweat, tears, and resolve. The closest Daryl has ever felt to this brand of heartbreak occurs when Rick pulls away slightly, breaking their physical contact.

“I can tell this is affecting you as much it does me. I will try, believe me. _I will try_. I love you and you deserve that much, same with Carl an’ Judith an’ the others.” He breathes against Daryl’s mouth.

Daryl feels grateful for the arm wrapped around his back, the one thing that reminds him to stay in the moment and soak it in, until he’s submerged and drowning in it. If there’s a peaceful way to go in this world, this is the way Daryl eventually hopes to do it.

“You always could have said somethin’ before, I’d never judge you,” Rick says against the corner of Daryl’s mouth, “Any words on your mind you can tell me.”

“Wanted to focus on the ones that really matter.” Daryl mutters turning his head brushing his lips with the older man.

“Everything you say matters.”


End file.
